Don't Shoot The Messenger
by Nyx6
Summary: Even the most simple of tasks can become complicated if you're everyone's favourite gambler. But escorting two bickering farmers back to Four Corners is easy enough right?...Wrong! Especially if one is a little trigger happy...
1. Chapter 1

**One.**

An 'easy job' was how Chris had described it.

Ezra had been leaning back in a chair, feet propped up on a small table, enjoying the shade cast by the covering over the boardwalk, shifting a pack of cards from one hand to the other, watching the blacks and reds blur into one as the deck slid backwards and forwards.

Initially he'd been surprised that their esteemed leader had chosen him for the task, but, as Chris had begun to explain how supremely simple the task was, Ezra had realised that, one, he was the last resort, and two, Chris was not happy about it. Buck and JD were still laid up from shoulder and leg injuries respectively, as a reminder of a group of outlaws that had passed through the town several weeks earlier, Josiah and Nathan were up at the Indian reserve tending to the wounded and keeping the olive branch extended, and Chris, as he had explained grimly, was headed off with Vin to track an escaped prisoner who had jumped his guards not two miles off and was presumed still in the area.

"Don't screw this up Ezra," Chris had growled, the high-noon sun no doubt stretching his irritability even further than normal.

Ezra had flicked the deck into his right hand and then tucked them briskly into his jacket pocket, looking up with a cheeky grin,

"I have no intention of doing so."

That had been two days ago, and, Ezra had to admit, Chris had been correct. Perfectly simple. Though of course, all he'd done so far was ride.

He was on his way to escort two quarrelling farmers, embroiled in a dispute over their land, back to Four Corners, where, if timed correctly, Judge Travis would be present to settle the dispute. Easy. The short trip had also given Ezra time to take in some fresh surroundings, and enjoy being alone with his horse and his thoughts. It was almost like the old days he thought to himself as, spotting two pitched roofs in the distance, he sped to a trot. But something about the trip had been different also, for the first time, he'd realised that instead of moving on, he had somewhere to return to. Home. That had been both a pleasing and terrifying realisation, along with the jolt that that made the other six his family of sorts. He grinned, better not let Maude cotton on to that one.

He heard the men before he saw them. A chorus of shouting and protesting, followed by a loud rifle shot and a yell of fright. He frowned, the dispute sounded a lot less simple than he'd imagined, and he slowed his horse cautiously and drew his gun.

The two houses were barely twenty feet from one another at the bottom of a small slope, with a tall mountain face climbing up from behind them in the distance. The surrounding land was surprisingly flat and barren, with few shrubs and the odd tree protruding from the ground and looking uncomfortable in the heat. Assembled on the veranda of each house appeared to be makeshift gun posts. On one, a table, trough and armchair had been modified with wood to create an L-shaped hide, out of which the barrel of a rifle was pointing, the other was assembled from the remnants of an old small two-seater carriage and broken wooden creating a similar sort of fortress. It was from the carriage-formed hide that a voice rang out, high-pitched, panicky and desperate,

"You could have killed me!"

The voice that replied from the other side was harsher, less forgiving and deeper,

"Good!"

"You're a damn lunatic!" the first voice again, only a little bit angrier,

"If I am it's because you've driven me to it!" the second voice, just as angry.

Ezra, bemused by the banter and small-scale scenes of warfare, wheeled his horse closer to the houses, listening to the heated debate,

"You're the one that started shooting first!" the panicky man,

"So?"

As a small silence elapsed, the owner of the more pitched, timid voice slowly rose his head above the spoke where a wheel used to be and peered across at his neighbour's veranda. The response nearly took his head off, and he ducked sharply to avoid the bullet.

"Gentlemen?"

At the sound of the mildly amused sounding Southern accent, both men raised their heads slowly to take in the gambler, dressed in a sharp black coat and grinning widely at them from on top of his horse, where he was casually resting one arm on the pommel, the other limply holding a gun, the ease with which it hung from his fingers suggesting that were it called for, it would waste no time in discharging.

Ezra watched as the two men took him in, before the man holding the rifle rose, pushing back a big straw hat, underneath which his face had been completely obscured.

"Who the hell are you?" the voice was twangy, and the face both puzzled and angry.

Ezra smiled once more, hoping to impress upon the man his honest intentions,

"I am Ezra P. Standish at your service."

The man continued to stare blankly, and as Ezra's horse shifted, he swallowed and tried another approach,

"I have come to escort you two gentlemen to Four Corners...to meet the Judge,"

Recognition flickered across the man's face, and he nodded slowly, his face still full of caution,

"Oh, you one of them law fellas?"

Ezra dipped the brim of his hat and grinned,

"Indeed I am. And you I presume, are Mr. MacReedy?"

The man's face filled with scorn, and he shook his head,

"No I ain't!" he gestured with his rifle to his neighbour whose head had just been slowly emerging from his shelter. On seeing the barrel swing in his direction, he ducked once more, "I'm Danielson,"

Ezra nodded gracefully,

"Ah, Mr. Danielson, I see. Well then gentlemen, I am ready to leave whenever you are, and I suggest the sooner the better. There's only a few hours of daylight left and I believe it's best to make some headway tonight."

Mr. Danielson stared at him through narrow eyes, almost as if trying to read him. As Ezra watched the man watching him, MacReedy rose slowly from his covering and also stared, although his eyes were wide behind thick, dusty glasses and he clutched at a small cap timidly.

"We leaving tonight then?" he asked in a whisper.

Ezra turned to him, glad to have a reprieve from Danielson's glare.

"Well, I believe that would be best. Pray how long will you gentlemen need to prepare yourselves for the journey?"

Danielson snorted and swung his rifle over his back, jerking his thumb to a ramshackle building that Ezra presumed was a stable,

"Once I saddle up ole' Duke there I'm as good as gone,"

Ezra nodded,

"Good. Mr. MacReedy?"

Mr. MacReedy looked startled at being addressed, and fumbled with his hat some more,

"Err...well, I'll need to pack some clothes...provisions, tell mother..." Danielson snorted loudly and MacReedy flinched and swallowed before frowning at his neighbour. Before anything could break out however, Ezra interjected,

"Well, how about a quarter of an hour? Would that satisfy Mr. MacReedy?"

MacReedy looked back and nodded gratefully, pushing his hat back on and clambering from his fort. He pushed open his door and strode in, calling out meekly as he disappeared inside.

"Mother!...Mother I'm going away for a bit..."

Ezra ignored Danielson's snort and instead turned to look at the horizon. He narrowed his eyes. He was sure he could see a figure shimmering in the distance. A dark figure a top a horse. However when he blinked, it disappeared.

"I don't know how long! Mother...no I'm not abandoning you like pa did!..."

Ezra sighed. It was going to be a very long two days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two.**

Ezra had been asleep for about an hour when trouble struck.

The three men had travelled as far as they had been able to that night before MacReedy had started complaining of cramps and bruises. Danielson had nearly turned and shot him on sight, however after defusing the situation, Ezra had suggested that they made camp for the night.

After a rather frugal meal, MacReedy had offered to keep watch for the larger part of the night, stating persistent insomnia as a good excuse for him to be of use. Danielson had been scathing of the offer, but Ezra had ridden twice as far as the men in one day and was aching for some sleep, and so had agreed.

It was early morning when Ezra blinked and slowly opened his eyes. It took a while to focus on the rocks scattered around them, and then the dark silhouettes of the horses beyond. The fire was throwing out some light, the smell of sparks and the crackle of the wood comforting and soothing.

Slowly, and with a groan of exertion, Ezra propped himself up on his elbows, trying to work out just why he'd woken. He glanced around, Danielson was wrapped in blanket beyond the end of his own bedroll, and MacReedy was propped upright against a rock, head lying on his chest, breathing in and out slowly.

"Unbelievable,"

Ezra sighed heavily and detangled his feet from his blankets. Wavering slightly, he got to his feet and picked his way across the makeshift camp to where the small man was sleeping.

"Mr. MacReedy," Ezra hissed at him.

Nothing. Just a long intake of air, followed by a squeaky sounding snore. Ezra rolled his eyes and ran his tongue over his top lip, trying to maintain his composure. He tapped at the man on the shoulder,

"Mr. MacReedy,"

Getting no response, Ezra upgraded the tapping to a solid thump.

"Mr. MacReedy!"

The small man jumped out of his skin, eyes springing open behind his thick-rimmed glasses, peering round like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Eventually, his eyes settled on Ezra,

"M-m-m-m-Mr. Standish," he seemed clueless as to what had happened, and peered about the camp in total confusion.

Ezra blinked at him,

"Mr. MacReedy, you were supposed to be keeping watch,"

MacReedy straightened his glasses and frowned,

"I was,"

"You were asleep,"

For some unknown reason, MacReedy took offence to the implication he'd failed his task, and drew himself up as tall as his little frame would allow.

"I was not!"

Exasperated, Ezra spread his hands wide,

"You were snoring!"

MacReedy blinked,

"I was?"

"Yes!"

"Oh," MacReedy slumped back down again, seemingly startled by the revelation. As Ezra blinked rapidly and looked around, praying for someone to pinch him, MacReedy snorted, "Well what do you expect? It is the middle of the night you know!"

Ezra looked at him in disbelief,

"You informed me that you never slept,"

MacReedy snorted once more, as Ezra's blood began to boil,

"Of course I sleep! Be dead if I didn't!"

Ezra turned round to tend to the fire, muttering to himself as he went,

"And wouldn't that be a travesty,"

As the embers crackled some more, Ezra held out his hands, letting the warmth radiate through the tips of his fingers. At least Danielson was still asleep.

MacReedy, obviously disturbed from his rest sighed, and shifted against the tall rock to try and make himself comfortable once more. As he did, his hat caught on the grainy surface, and slid off his head to the floor. Ezra ignored the small man's annoyed tutt and watched as he bent over to get it.

At that moment, a bullet glanced off the rock where MacReedy's head had been a split second before. Ezra, at once leapt into action, throwing himself on top of MacReedy and pushing the startled man down.

"What the-!" MacReedy's protest was muffled by the jacket of the gambler.

On the other side of the fire, Danielson jumped back into the world of the waking, his sleep-bleared eyes open wide, his hands groping wildly for his gun as he scrambled for the rocks.

Pulling out his own gun, Ezra beckoned MacReedy to do the same as his neighbour, and listened as the man scrambled blindly towards cover.

As silence settled once more, Ezra tried to think straight. Who the hell was shooting at them and why?

Slowly he raised his head, only to have to bury it back into MacReedy's blankets as a bullet whipped past the top of his hat.

More gunshots followed, and were greeted with a wild cry of elation and several rounds from the barrel of Danielson's rifle. Covered by the fire from the war-like farmer, Ezra himself turned and scrambled for cover, listening to the returning gunfire the whole time. He frowned. Four? Five maybe?

To the left there was a high-pitched scream of terror that sounded like it had been ripped from MacReedy. Ezra spun at once. An armed man was appearing out of the gloom and heading for the scrawny rancher. Ezra fired off several rounds into the approaching assailant and listened to the groan, and following thud.

Four then.

As MacReedy quaked, Ezra listened to the distant sounds of shouting. Almost at once the gunfire died down, before fading completely. Ezra took a deep breath and lifted his head. Nothing. They'd gone.

Danielson was still pumping off rounds into the night air, and still yeehaa-ing loudly. Ezra, holstering his own gun went over to him, and tried to shout over the din the farmer was single-handedly creating.

"Mr. Danielson, I suggest you save your ammunition for when there is actually a target,"

Danielson stopped at once, almost sheepishly, and sat back, trying to suppress the raised adrenaline pumping about his body. MacReedy on the other hand, was huddled against a rock hands over his ears, trembling all over. Ezra bent low beside him, resting a hand gently on the man's arm. MacReedy jumped and his eyes flew up to Ezra's face. The gambler tried to look reassuring.

"I believe the danger has subsided. Our assailants have left."

MacReedy's eyes fell to the body before him, and Ezra followed his gaze. Maybe the body would reveal more of who was after them.

Ezra sighed. It was definitely going to be a long trip.

oooooooooooooooo

So, there's the next chapter...you know what to do! Review, reivew, review!

I'm still trying to suppress my anger. Set the video last night for M7, only to wake this morning to find it didn't tape! Damn! Plus it was 'Serpents,' which is apparently Ezra focussed. Ah well, will just have to wait 'til it's on again. Damn, damn, damn...goes off to murder video recorder...


	3. Chapter 3

**Three.**

Building up the fire appeared to bring some sense of comfort to MacReedy, who, wrapped in a blanket, was taking small shaky sips from Ezra's hip flask. The sun was slowly creeping over the landscape, and casting pale light across the still surroundings.

Ezra was squatting beside the dead body, taking in the bulky man's appearance, unkempt, unshaven and with long black greasy locks. The gambler wrinkled his nose, not an attractive prospect.

"You know..." began Danielson from over Ezra's shoulder. Ezra rolled his eyes, hoping he didn't have to find out.

"...That looks an awful lot like Lars Brannigan,"

Ezra turned to look at him slowly,

"And may I enquire as to who Lars Brannigan is?"

Danielson shrugged and scratched at the back of his head,

"He hangs round with Tom Hannlin, Jay Greyson and the Ross brothers,"

Ezra blinked once more, willing the slow farmer to reveal more,

"The Ross brothers?" he asked eventually, receiving no continuation from Danielson. He got a nod in response,

"Yeah, Abe and Adam Ross. Used to be a real big powerful family round these parts. Their grandpa used to own all the land round here, 'cluding ours..." he indicated himself and MacReedy, "...course, they lost it all to their pa's gamblin'. He never was very good,"

Ezra turned back to the body,

"Can you think of any reason that these men might have been shooting at you or Mr. MacReedy?"

Danielson gave another non-committal shrug,

"Well, come to think of it, them Ross brothers came by few months back and told me an' MacReedy to give 'em back their land. Course, we said no, ours by rights see. They wasn't too happy 'bout it though,"

Ezra nodded grimly,

"Did you not fear that your defiance would have repercussions?"

Danielson shrugged again, and Ezra tried to keep calm,

"Well, you see them wantin' the land back got me and MacReedy arguing over our boundaries...so we just sorta forgot about 'em,"

Ezra sighed and threw his eyes to the heavens as he moved forward to check the man's pockets, which were largely empty. There was one thing that caught Ezra's interest however, a crumpled telegram, calling the man, who it confirmed was Brannigan, back to town. As Ezra read the short message, his eyes widened, and he turned to the perplexed farmer standing beside him,

"Mr. Danielson, do you know of any areas of potential wealth on either yours or Mr. MacReedy's land?"

Danielson frowned,

"Whatcha mean?"

Ezra squinted up at him as the sun crept up further over the horizon,

"Gold Mr. Danielson. Do you know anything about gold?"

Danielson shook his head vigorously,

"No. No, nothing. Why?"

Ezra held out the telegram,

"Well, according to that, the Ross brothers do, and that's why they want their land back. Seems they drafted in our Mr. Brannigan to help them in their endeavours."

Danielson put a hand to his head, his eyes wide in amazement,

"Well I'll be -,"

MacReedy, seated by the fire looked up at the sight of his arch nemesis speechless, and frowned in confusion.

"What's happening?"

Ezra, abandoning the body, leapt nimbly over the rocks to reacquisition his flask,

"It would appear Mr. MacReedy..." he stopped to quell his own amazement with a swig of drink, "...that the Ross brothers and their accomplices believe that there is a small fortune in gold buried somewhere on yours or Mr. Danielson's land. And it would appear that they are resorting to desperate measures in order to get the land back."

MacReedy's mouth fell open, and Ezra let him snatch back the flask and take a swig of his own, coughing as he gulped it down. Ezra let him splutter, taking back the flask and securing the lid.

"Precisely."

Danielson appeared behind them,

"What happens if they show up again?"

Ezra sat back with a sigh,

"Then we engage in a battle of wits and skill," he replied casually. Danielson frowned,

"We shoot 'em?"

Ezra sighed,

"Exactly Mr. Danielson,"

Beside him, MacReedy quaked,

"What about me?"

Danielson snorted,

"Shoot you too,"

Ezra ignored the last comment and turned to the quivering man,

"Have you brought a firearm with you Mr. MacReedy?"

MacReedy shook his head,

"No,"

Heaving himself to his feet with a sigh, Ezra wandered over to where Brannigan's body was lying, and picked up the dead man's gun, pulling MacReedy to his feet and handing it to him.

MacReedy let it hang limply, watching it with fear.

"It's not going to bite you Mr. MacReedy, hold it properly,"

Reluctantly, MacReedy changed it so that it sat fairly comfortably in his hand, even if it proved too heavy to do single-handedly.

Ezra nodded,

"Good. Now, Mr. Danielson, if you would be so kind as to place a small rock over there," he gestured with his own gun and Danielson complied. Almost instantly, Ezra fired, watching as the rock fell to the ground with a thud as the bullet thumped against it.

MacReedy jumped and Ezra lowered the weapon.

"Aim and fire Mr. MacReedy. It's really that simple."

MacReedy swallowed and nodded dumbly, and Ezra smiled. Holstering his own gun, he began to pace towards the rock in order to re-position it for the weedy farmer. However, he hadn't moved more than ten feet away when suddenly there was a gunshot, and a bullet thudded into the ground not an inch from his heel. He froze dead and listened as the silence returned.

Somewhere in the background there was a gulp of fear, and Ezra turned ever so slowly to meet the gaze of the embarrassed farmer, whose arm was hanging fairly limply by his side, the barrel of the gun, pointed at Ezra's feet, gently smoking.

Without a word, Ezra turned and walked back towards MacReedy, turning away the gun as soon as he was close enough so that were it to go off again, it would not be pointing near anyone. MacReedy let him do so without a protest.

Ezra's voice when he spoke was low and sounded fairly worn,

"Mr. MacReedy, may I be so bold as to make a suggestion?"

MacReedy swallowed and nodded eagerly, and so Ezra continued,

"May I suggest that you place that particular firearm in your saddlebag and do not attempt to touch it for the remainder of the journey?"

MacReedy nodded quickly, and Ezra smiled thinly,

"Good. Now gentlemen, let's prepare to leave."

As Ezra moved off towards his bedroll, still spread across the ground, he heard Danielson turn angrily to his neighbour.

"You numbskull! You nearly killed the law! What you think the judge'd say 'bout that? You do that again and I really will shoot you!"

Ezra sighed.

Never again would he accept any job from Chris. However 'easy' it was.

oooooooooooooooooo

Well, another part! Hope you liked it, and that you feel for poor old Ezra.

Ok, place your bets folks...who thinks he'll make it back in one piece and without incident?...Well, you'll find out next chapter!...Mwaahaahaa!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four.**

The day that followed the dramatic events of the night was much the same as the one before it, perforated with the constant squabbles of Danielson and MacReedy, who, consumed by new realms of greed, were fighting over whose land it was that had the gold in it.

Danielson, when not engaged with his sparring partner, was, in his own words, "a-lookin' out," which, as far as Ezra could follow, comprised of taking pot-shots at what ever moved, including rabbits, birds and assorted shrubbery.

By the time the trio reached the outskirts of the town, the last rays of warmth were beaming down, creating long shadows, and bright patches of heat in the late afternoon sun.

"Your land! Why would anyone be stupid enough to put gold on your land?"

Ezra rolled his eyes as the illogical, yet scornful voice of Danielson rang out loud.

There were passing rough buildings, wooden structures pieced together unevenly, and at the sound of the heated voices, small faces were peering through the windows, and people out sweeping their steps were turning to look as the row passed them by.

As the trio headed for the centre of the town, Ezra turned to hiss at the pair, keen not to draw too much attention, and therefore, trouble.

"I believe this would be a conversation best suited to 'when' and not 'if' something of value is found on either of your areas of ownership. Until then, I would greatly appreciate your co-operation in keeping as low a profile as possible."

Both Danielson and MacReedy stared at him open mouthed, and he nodded at them,

"Thank you."

However, when Ezra turned back around a voice broke out across the empty street, a voice that told Ezra his long speech had been a wasted effort, because trouble had found them already.

"So, got yourself a fancy little gun have you?" the voice was accompanied by a figure riding a tall bay horse, and three others who flanked him as he trotted into the street.

At once, doors around them shut as fearful inhabitants took shelter from what was headed their way.

Ezra's hand went slowly to his gun, his hand sitting on his hip as he pushed back his jacket and eyed the newcomers closely,

The man who had spoken turned to a similar looking man beside him, who then took on the task of group spokesperson.

"You shot Brannigan,"

He was looking at Danielson, who kept a stony silence. MacReedy however, pointed a shaking finger in Ezra's direction which the gambler ignored coolly.

Danielson spoke up,

"Yeah, and we'll shoot the rest of you good fer nothins' too," with that, he took aim and fired.

As the gun clicked uselessly, Ezra cursed the farmer's earlier trigger-happy approach, and the resulting lack of bullets. Danielson too seemed to quake as he realised he was defenceless.

As Ezra threw his eyes to the heavens, the four men in front of him began to laugh, and Danielson turned a mortified shade of crimson.

It was as they were all beginning to contemplate the next move, that, to the surprise of everyone, MacReedy drew a gun from his saddlebag with surprising speed, and fired towards the group.

It was a remarkably speedy assault that shocked everyone. However, for all its speed, there was a distinct lack of accuracy, and the bullet thudded uselessly into a metal trough, ricocheting back towards the three.

Ezra tipped sideways off his horse with a groan as the bullet caught him across the side, and rolled slowly onto his back with a gasp, the dust sticking to his neat black coat.

Danielson couldn't hold back his anger,

"You shot him! You idiot! I promised you I'd shoot you!"

The two Ross brothers found the whole scene fairly amusing, and one of them called to the panicking farmers with a laugh,

"You don't got no bullets left!"

Danielson flushed again.

It was as Ezra rolled over to face the four riders that he noticed the saloon behind them. Perched on top of the roof was a large wooden sign, alerting the townspeople to the presence of the establishment. Also, more importantly, it was fastened with a thick rope that threaded back to a ring embedded in the roof. A rope that was frayed.

Slowly, the Ross brothers and their accomplices stopped laughing, and drew their guns,

"Well, this has been fun and all, but we want our land now,"

At that moment, Ezra, trying to ignore the pain in his side, and resolving to shoot MacReedy himself were Danielson not to beat him to it, took his own gun, and fired up at the thin rope.

Everyone stopped for a moment, trying to work out whose gun had gone off, and where the target was. However once the Ross brothers realised that none of their company were injured, they smirked once more, aiming again at the two farmers, and laughing at their continued fortune.

That however, was a mistake. As they cackled to one another, the sign for the saloon lurched forward, and came crashing down upon them, taking them from view.

Danielson and MacReedy looked over in astonishment as the gambler tried to pull himself to his feet.

MacReedy looked fairly embarrassed, the gun still limply in his hand,

"Err...I...err..."

Ezra held up a hand,

"Please, Mr. MacReedy, lets not make the situation any worse."

Danielson reached over to swat at his neighbour,

"You idiot! I bet he's in shock,"

They both scrambled down from their horses to rush towards him. MacReedy seemed clueless,

"How'd we stop that then?"

Danielson put a hand to his chin, deep in thought,

"I know," he suddenly decided, raising his finger into the air. At that moment, Ezra, for the first time in his life, wished that Nathan was there to attend to him. He tried to quell any ideas that were brewing by shaking his head,

"I'll be fine gentlemen, I assure you,"

However Danielson over-ruled him quickly, grabbing his arm,

"No no, it's an old remedy. My pa told me...or at least I think it was him..."

Ezra began to feel a sense of dread rising as Danielson continued,

"...Now, we just need ourselves a stream..."

ooooooooooooooooooo

Well, only one chapter left after this one...poor Ezra, I am mean to him!

Anyway, please review! Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five.**

It was JD who saw them coming, three figures approaching the town, walking slowly, one wearing a distinctive dark hat, flatter and squarer than the other two. He looked round to address Vin and Buck, who were seated lazily outside the saloon.

"Ezra's back!"

Nathan, appearing on the boardwalk rubbing at his hands with a scrap of towel, squinted into the distance where JD was pointing, noticing something the others hadn't.

"Ezra's slumping."

At once the others turned their attentions back, looking hard at the middle rider. Vin slowly nodded,

"Nathan's right," he stood quickly, and he and Nathan moved forward to greet the small party. Buck struggled up ungracefully from his chair, and he and JD limped over to stand with the other two, and Josiah who was wandering casually over from the Church.

They could hear the sounds of bickering, and as the riders drew in closer, they could see the two men on either side of Ezra shaking fists at one another, and hear some of the curses thrown back and forth,

"If I had any bullets I'd shoot you right now!"

Nathan frowned on seeing Ezra, looking pale and exhausted in his saddle, and clutching his right side gingerly.

On seeing his associates standing waiting to meet them, Ezra let out a sigh of relief, and let his horse stop slowly before them.

"Gentlemen," he greeted wearily.

Vin frowned at him,

"What happened to you?" he asked, as Buck chimed in behind him,

"You look like Hell,"

Ezra shot him a death stare and then rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He waved his hand airily,

"We ran into a spot of bother," he stated simply, taking a deep breath and screwing up his face as he shifted in the saddle slightly.

Danielson pointed helpfully at MacReedy,

"And then he shot him!"

MacReedy looked over at his neighbour with panic, and then back at the astounded lawmen,

"You shot him!" asked JD angrily eyeing the pathetic looking farmer, who began to stutter badly,

"W-w-w-w..."

Nathan however ignored the embarrassment of the small man, and instead marched over to stand by Ezra's horse, looking up at the gambler and taking in his appearance,

"Why you soaking wet?"

Ezra's eyes narrowed and he looked over at Danielson, who cleared his throat and shifted in his seat under the scrutiny. All eyes turned to look at him.

"Well, that was the input of Mr. Danielson," Ezra began with a sigh, "Who seemed to believe that the best follow-up for being shot was death by freezing,"

Danielson tried to protest his innocence.

"Well now, you see my pa told me that the best cure for shock was something cold...so...we...took him to this here stream see...and..."

Nathan groaned loudly, and gave the farmer a look of pure murder,

"You're pa was just like you are...stupid!"

Danielson took the retort on the chin, and looked down uncomfortably, only looking up angrily when MacReedy whispered quietly from his horse,

"Told you."

Ezra winced as Nathan prodded him in the side, but let out a sigh at the same time,

"Mr. Jackson, I doubt you will take what I am about to say seriously, but I am exceedingly glad to have you ministering to my afflictions,"

Nathan shook his head at the hapless farmers,

"I can see why."

It was as JD shot daggers at Danielson that Josiah seized the opportunity and beckoned the two farmers down off their horses,

"Brothers...I believe it's best you leave the good man to deal with Ezra and take up your business with the judge."

MacReedy nodded uncertainly, and followed his neighbour as Josiah beckoned them down the street. All remaining eyes turned to Ezra once more as he slid down painfully off his horse,

Vin cocked his head quizzically at the gambler, a small smile tugging at his lips,

"So he shot you?"

Buck grinned as well, and both ignored Nathan's steely glare. Ezra turned to look at them with contempt.

"It's not wise to underestimate his powers of haplessness Mr. Tanner. They might just surprise you."

Vin grinned once more as Ezra set off slowly for the saloon, Nathan fussing about him like a mother hen.

Chris would not be happy.

ooooooooooooooooo

Chris was not happy.

Still under the impression that the task he had set out for Ezra was the simplest thing in the world, he had stopped just short of berating the gambler. However being told by Nathan that he'd been shot had cooled his mood slightly, as had the settlement over the two neighbours' land quarrels, which the Judge had amended very speedily.

In order to let Ezra rest and also to highlight his point, Chris had offered to take the neighbours back. Promising to arrive back in Four Corners without a scratch, and in perfectly good time.

He still had every hope of doing so as the other six men, the Judge and Mary stood about the next day, waiting to see them off.

MacReedy had spent most of the morning apologising profusely to Ezra, who had accepted the barrage of apologies with an airy wave of his hand. Now, a top his horse again, he was embroiled in another past time. Arguing with Danielson.

"Be back in two days," Chris growled confidently, climbing onto his horse and casting his gaze over the others, particularly a worn looking Ezra who raised his hip flask in a gesture of luck, the smirk on his face a little unnerving.

"Come on boys," with that, Chris led the two bickering farmers out of the town and into the distance. The Judge, as soon as the riders became no more than small spots on the horizon, clapped his hands together, and, almost as if a silent sign of some sort, the others moved off also, heading back to chairs in the shade, glasses of drink and other pursuits to while away the time.

Ezra however remained, watching the riders become even smaller. It was him who spotted the other horseman. A dark figure watching the three riders from behind and setting off slowly after them. A small smile played across Ezra's lips, and his lifted his hip flask once again as he muttered quietly to himself,

"See you in two days Mr. Larabee, and the best of luck to you."

End.

oooooooooo

There, another one finished! Thank you so much to those who have reviewed, and those who will!

I already have ideas for new tales, or maybe one-offs, but am off to uni in about two weeks, so it might be a while before I get on here again. Anyway, see you when I see you!


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